#If anything I’ll come back with something completely unrelated

[wishingly-mesh]

I’m taking a break on doodle requests (I’m working on something silly for myself :)) so habe a really really messy symas doodle of them with Kau Chim Sticks :D

(I used to play with these a lot as a kid (not properly, I liked how it sounded when I shook it HSHSHAH) , My family only ever really fished em out for Chinese new year but I liked them a lot. thought it’d be fun to draw Tomas and Syzoth pulling one)

[gin-juice-tonic]

So, for Starters: Book Of Bill Spoilers warning. Another opinion from me below. This new one is about the lost journal pages again, of course.

Originally, I wanted to make a super big crazy essay about all the reasons I think the journal pages in BOB (The Book of Bill’s given name) are fake, and show off my super-cool totally completely sound deductive reasoning techniques in the process.  

Unfortunately, knowing myself I’m not sure I’m actually capable of accomplishing such a feat. You all know how I tend to post things in parts, sometimes out of order, often never finished. However I would like to share something in particular that’s been eating at me that I’ve seen… partially discussed, but only partially. And certainly not the part that I would like to discuss. 

It’s about the rats.

You know, the rats.

I saw these rats being talked about since before I was even able to have a look at the book myself. 

But before I get further into it all, I would like to start off with a joke: 

Why did dead rats, eggnog, a land orca, shrimp colors, It’s a Small World After All, and an Anti-Cipherite Suit cross the road? 

Well, that’s easy. To get to the other side. 

Of the book, that is. 

If you’re anything like me, you probably skipped right to the journal pages upon contact with the book. And if you’re even MORE like me, you were probably left a little confounded by them. Not only did they seem… wrong somehow. But they also felt random. Full of odd choices of subject that didn’t make a lot of sense. Could these pages really have come from journal 3? If so, why do parts of them feel so… completely out of context? 

And this is where the rats come in. As I mentioned before, I saw many people discussing them. In particular, they were noting a connection to this passage from earlier in the book:

Many of the related discussions also felt odd to me. Though I lacked the knowledge to be able to articulate why at the time. UNTIL, I read the book for myself from start to finish. That's when I realized something:  This is not the only time something from earlier in the book connects back to the journal pages. In fact, it happens many, many times throughout the earlier passages. (Here is a small collection of them for your perusal.)

And then it started clicking into place. The reasons the pages felt like they were so abnormally out of context… is because they WERE lacking context!

Now, before you can finish saying “Gin, you’re an idiot.” I would like you to ponder these three questions: 

1) Why, if these pages were taken from Journal 3, should they require context from outside of it to be able to be completely understood?

2) Why is it that this context can be found in what Bill Cipher has been writing in the preceding passages up till now? 

3) If you put food in a mogwai’s mouth at midnight EST but drive it over the CST time zone line back to 11PM before it can swallow, will it still transform into a gremlin? 

Okay, you caught me, that third one is unrelated. But the first two I believe require further thinking. So let’s delve a little further into the idea. Consider this the real third question: 

3) Are we to seriously believe that these, the only pages of J3 still lost to us, just so happen to tie into the new topics from the rest of the Book of Bill over and over like this?  

And since you’ve done so well thinking thus far, I’ll ask a fourth question: 

4) Are you aware of the concepts of Watsonian and Doyalist analysis? 

Assuming you don’t and you won’t google it, I’ll skip to the important part. Watsonian analysis is to analyze a story from within it, as if you yourself were Watson making deductions in a Sherlock Holmes novel.  

Now, from a Watsonian point of view, what happens when we try to answer our earlier questions? Why should it be that the Book of Bill provides so many of these points of reference to the journal pages? 

One possible line of thought could be that Bill wrote the earlier passages of his book *around* the idea of what was contained in the pages, but I think this doesn’t work for a few reasons. For one thing, the purpose of the book is to get the reader to make a deal, not to take a whole novel to set the stage for a 3 day mini Ford adventure. For another, not all of what I described prior is really fit to be called “context”, is it? The rats, the “Small World” cassette, and the Bill-Suit are one thing, but Eggnog? Shrimp colors? Land Orcas? I certainly wouldn’t define them that way. If anything, they’d be better suited to being called “references”. And unlike the more contextual ideas, there’d be no real need for Bill to sneak mere references to the pages into his grand story.  And lastly, there are a great deal of Bill pages that have nothing to do with the content in the journal pages at all.

So what exactly am I trying to say here? 

If we do intend to think of the callbacks outlined above as references, the only logical conclusion within the story is that the journal pages themselves are referencing back to the Book of Bill, not the other way around.

But… how? And why? Something Ford has written in the 80’s shouldn't be able to reference something Bill is writing post-weirdmageddon certainly. 

That’s because “Ford” isn’t referencing it at all!

And as for why… Well, have you ever noticed when you're writing a story on the fly, things you wrote earlier all come crashing back to you as you try to wrap things up? I believe personally that the journal pages are not pages actually written by Ford, but more a strange endcap on Bill’s crazy train of thought! That Bill is the one writing them, and the "references" are just fuel that further the pages creation. Almost as if, to quote someone much more knowledgeable than me on this subject…

(This single paragraph has been inserted a good deal after the original writing of this post.) I would like to clarify, I am not trying to claim the ideas presented in the pages have no basis in reality whatsoever. Ultimately, what I'm saying is I think Bill wrote them, and they should be taken with suspicion instead of as complete fact. "Did this event happen exactly this way?", "Does some of this feel distorted?", "Did this part even happen at all?" I think those are questions worth examining with the events detailed on these pages.

In the end, all I've described above (as well as other aspects of the pages I've not mentioned here) leave me with the impression the pages are not real.

As I stated only a bit earlier, the idea that these pages, the only pages of J3 purported to be lost, should be so connected to the rest of the book is beyond coincidence to me. Not to mention that in order to take these pages as total truth, you must give credence to several other passages of Bill's book as well. And I'm not too keen on having to trust him that much.

To all who have read this far, even to those who may have scoffed at the ideas in here or think I've only written up nonsense. Thank you for reading and considering my thoughts.

I am not saying anyone must agree with me on this. I know some people have found the pages to be important and meaningful to them, and I do not wish to give the impression that I think my view is the end all be all correct one, or that I think lesser of those who believe them to be Ford's own writings. I only want to share my own thoughts on them. And to anyone else who found the pages to feel "off" somehow, possibly validate their feelings too.

[cinnamonest]

Okay so like I've been waiting for you to be back to just toss an idea at you: so imagine Lumi is going to Inazuma and instead of the payment the guards just decide to use her for stress relief instead. (Optional: have an Inazuma yan save her and use her themselves?) Also unrelated: I have not finished Fontaine yet but I feel you would appreciate some of the new characters are a brother and sister. Just thought you should know.

Honestly the most unrealistic part of the game is how no one ever makes advances on this girl.

Like, you’re telling me, you have various guards and law enforcement and high-ranks in various institutions that have this girl come begging for this or that with the whole, “I’ll do whatever you want just give me entry/a certain object/info etc” and every single one just gives us a fetch quest or a “beat these low level enemies” task? Not a single one uses the situation to their advantage? No one is exchanging anything for pussy? None?

It's not just guards, either. Treasure hoarders, eremites, the random fatui encounters… you can't tell me these groups of large-build, aggressive, often criminally-inclined men would see some girl walking alone by herself and not try something. And like, you can't do much elemental attacking if your arms and legs are completely restrained either. It would literally be so easy to overpower her with sheer numbers but alas, the game must remain general-audience-friendly (SIGH)

Organized groups like eremites and treasure hoarders in particular are always on the lookout for unfortunate girls traveling solo. Easy prey. And you can't catch them off-guard with powers, they're used to vision-holders, and the traveler isn't much different. Once they get your arms all bound up behind your back and your legs tied and connected by a tie behind your neck, you can just be picked up like a little bundle, or a communal fleshlight to get passed around the campfire circle at night.

[haikyu-mp4]

Glowing

word count; 1047 – gn!reader, a bit suggestive

Hoshiumi Korai always wanted to be tough. To win everything. Some would call it a need to be ‘manly’ enough, but he just always had something to prove. In a weird way, it was one of the things that made you feel drawn to him while you were dating. His drive and competitive tendencies, as well as the little frown he did when he lost or got embarrassed. It was all attractive to you.

Completely unrelated, you cared a lot for your skin with a semi-intricate skincare routine every night. Korai, who you recently moved in with after being partners for a few years, would often stay in the bathroom while you did your routine, brushing his teeth for a little longer just so he could watch you and maybe throw out a question or two. Like why are there two soaps? Why are there different serums for different days? And then once a week, after you put on a face mask, he would pull you into his lap on the couch and complain about how you didn’t let him have any kisses. Instead, he settled for holding you closer and tickling your neck with kisses. Living together was pretty great.

One day he finally gave in. You both just finished drying off after a heated shower in each other’s company, when you started putting on this week’s face mask. Korai looked at you in the mirror with a soft frown as he snaked his arms around your waist and cuddled into your neck. It had been a long week, he was so tired from this damn sport he loved so much and felt a little extra thankful today that he got to come home to you. So when you asked “You want a face mask as well?” like you always did, he let out a small sigh before giving in.

“Yes, I do.”

After the short process of getting the mask on for each of you, trading giggles with hesitant grimaces, you both sat on the couch with a timer on your phone and some movie you had watched before on the TV. You even convinced him to put on a cute frog headband to keep his hair away from his face.

While you sat with your legs across his lap and told him about one of your colleagues’ gossip, he looked at his phone and picked it up when it rang. He just glanced at the name of the caller, too into your story to check anything else. Korai hummed as you slowed down your talking to see who it was as well.

“I’ll just check what he wants,” Korai mumbled. The two of you had taken so many cute selfies with the masks on that he didn’t realise the reason he could see the two of you on his screen now was because it was a video call.

Korai seemed to choke on his breath when his screen suddenly showed Kageyama and Hinata with a small image of you and him in the corner. Wearing... face masks and headbands. The girly kind. During Korai’s shock, there was unfortunately time for the man on the other line to fumble his way to the screenshot buttons.

“Idiotyama!! Why would you video me on a Friday evening?” Korai yelled, handing the phone to you and letting his head fall back against the sofa in humiliation. There goes my whole image, he thought dramatically. He couldn’t even cover his face with his hands in shame and instead just pointed an empty stare at the ceiling.

“Me and Kageyama needed to settle something but now I can’t remember what it was. Oh, hi y/n!” the orange-haired man said cheerfully. With a sweet smile, you held a short conversation with them before hanging up. Phone on the table, you put your arms back around your boyfriend’s neck and wondered what you should say. He put his arms loosely around you and waited in silence for you to find the right words.

“I think you look very pretty.”

Hinata and Kageyama had learnt a thing or two about teasing from their older teammates, and you bet the screenshot of you and Korai in pink face masks was sent to the Japan Olympic group chat with a nice ‘hope everyone is enjoying a relaxing weekend just like the little giant!’

Let’s just say you were struggling to hold back your laughter while you finally helped him wash the mask off after the timer went off. Korai was silent, keeping his eyes closed until you pressed a kiss to his freshly washed cheek when you were done. “Wearing a face mask isn’t embarrassing, Korai,” you told him, sneaking your hands under his shirt to warm them.

“You wouldn’t understand,” he sighed, unintentionally pouting like a little boy and tracing his hands around to squeeze your bum like stress balls. Of course, the others didn’t actually care that much if any of the guys used a face mask, it’s just so funny because it’s Korai. He always takes the bait when they tease him.

So as you two finally curled up in bed, you let him spoon you this time with his strong arms curling around you. It made him feel a bit better as you cuddled into him. The morning after was spent cosying up under the sheets and enjoying each other’s bodies before going on your routine weekend jog together. Everything seemed back to normal.

Except that your boyfriend was plotting for the best revenge against his friends.

please excuse the timeline ignorance between the Adlers and the Olympics, it's just a little bonus because I love the Adlers trio

Monday came and Korai went off to work early in the morning. He put the lunch you packed him in his bag and pecked your lips before he was out the door.

“You’re glowing, Hoshiumi.” Kageyama tried his luck early on during warm-ups.

“What am I, pregnant?” Korai spat back. Kageyama just kept smiling at his own joke.

Ushijima switched which arm he was stretching and observed Hoshiumi. “Your skin does look refreshed, maybe we should all get face masks with y/n.”

“I know it does but get your own partner, man.” He just mumbled, moving away to warm up with a ball on the other side of the court. They were so going to get it for teasing him one day.

masterlist

[oldwritingm]

Hiiii

I was wondering if you could please make Jays head canons, or Jays story's?

Sure thing! :D

Ninjago - Dating Jay Walker Headcanons

It definitely wasn’t love at first sight when he saw you, but he couldn’t deny how attractive you were

He didn’t really see you like that; not at first, anyway

You were helping them with a mission, and once it was over he figured you’d separate forever, and that’d be that

But by the time the mission was over, he found he couldn’t bear the thought of losing all contact with you

He’d come to like your personality even more than your looks, which was really saying something since he thought you were STUNNING

So, just as you were about to part, he suddenly took you by the hand

He reddened, stuttering, trying to get out his words

You just smiled, knowing what he meant before he could even get a coherent word out

You guys exchanged info, promising to meet again sometime

Later that same night, Jay contacted you, requesting a meet-up at his favorite sushi joint in Ninjago

You guys continued on like that, taking turns picking your meet-up spots

It takes a while for Jay to actually admit his feelings, but he’s painfully obvious

Honestly you’ll probably have to make the first move, unless you want to wait forever

But when you finally start actually dating, he is ECSTATIC

He is THE turbo-boyfriend: super romantic, always showing his love in huge displays, memorizing all the things you like (as if he hadn’t done that already…)

His love languages are: All Of Them. Think of literally anything romantic (poems, gifts, doing chores for you, caring for you when sick, etc, etc) and he’s done it at some point

You might legitimately have to tell him to tone it down

Especially with PDA; we’ve seen in the show that he sometimes struggles with boundaries

He’ll always want to hold your hand or stand super close, but he’ll back off if you ask

Once you outline your boundaries, though, he does his best to follow them

He’ll probably slip up once or twice when he gets excited, but he tries his hardest :(

He’s very excitable when it comes to you, but he’s also prone to channel that energy into anxiety

And jealousy, which leads to insecurity

He sometimes feels that he’s not good enough for you, with you being as amazing as you are

Don’t worry though, you can easily cheer him up by showing him literally any amount of affection

But an evening cuddling and whispering sweet nothings works best ;)

Cuddling is a must with Jay; he clings to you like a koala, and he complains that he can’t sleep without you

In fact, he insists that everything is way better when you’re there

It sometimes annoys the other ninjas

They’ll be doing something completely unrelated and he’ll just sigh and go “I wish Y/n was here”

And they’re just like: 😐

He could (and does) gush about you endlessly to others

Much to many people’s annoyance

With all this in mind, I’ll finish off by saying he’s the type to shower you with all the love in the world but then break down sobbing when you so much as smile at him

(Please smile at him)

Thank you so much for this request! And thanks for reading, take care sweet doves!!

(divider by saradika)

[pixydustworld]

Fate found Hermione Granger in the crowded Ministry cafeteria. 

She had done her best to outrun it, but it was inevitable. Like the ocean finding the shore, like the mist that settled in the meadow right before sunrise; something that always happened, spiraling far beyond her control. Accepting defeat, however, had never been in her nature. 

She would go down fighting, glorious in her anger. 

“I think you’d be happier if you just let it happen.” 

Ginny flinched after the words left her lips. “I mean,” she hurried to correct herself, cheeks red, “It’s just easier. Less painful.”

Hermione forced a smile. “I’m fine with the pain.” She said, ignoring the aching hole in her chest as she watched Blaise curve a comforting hand across her friend's shoulder, warm and present and possessive. An Alpha comforting his Omega. “And besides. I like belonging to myself.”

“We just want you to be happy.” Blaise shrugged. “How many heats have you done on your own? Five? Six? It’s unhealthy to do this to yourself, Hermione, and wrong  —”

“Thank you.” Hermione interrupted him. “But I’m alright.”

It was a familiar conversation, one she knew well; at the start, Hermione had assumed she’d present as a Beta — Ron was one, she would be one, too. 

When her Heat had come, unrelenting and debilitatingly unavoidable, she had known the truth: too bitter to be disregarded, too blatant to be ignored. She was an Omega, praised, prized and often, procured. 

“This doesn’t change anything.” Harry had insisted a few days after she’d Presented, holding her close to his chest, fingers trailing along her spine. “You’re still you.” Then he had smiled down at her, self deprecating and familiar, like she remembered, like he’d always been. “And I’m still me.”

Harry had been wrong, as he often was. Perhaps things hadn’t changed much for him: being an Alpha was no different than his life before — but her presentation had changed everything.

“It’s just.” Ginny’s voice brought her back to the present, persistent in a way that could never be completely kind, “I know what you’re going through. You’re torturing yourself. ”

“I’ve been tortured.” Hermione said. The free coffee was not worth this interrogation, nor was the muffin Blaise had proudly presented to her (Alpha instincts, bleeding like an open wound across all of his actions), “It feels much worse than this.”

“Do you have a plan?” Blaise blurted out, seemingly unable to contain himself any longer. He was blunt and unafraid of her wrath, like all Alpha’s were — all except Harry, who still remembered who she was underneath everything. Saw her for who she properly was. “For your next one?”

“Yes.” Hermione said through her teeth, bravely resisting the urge to throw her coffee in his face. “I’ll be alone. Like I have been. For the last six heats.”

Their conversation was ending, the embers of their time together dwindling, which could only mean one thing. The comment that haunted all her interactions, the ghost at her door, the seed of hope that sprouted in Ginny’s chest, determined to grow under any condition. 

“What about the Alpha from that one time?” Ginny asked in a rush of words, determined to get it out before Hermione cut her off. “The last one you were with before this whole celibacy thing started. We should get him — ”

“No.”

Memories of their time spent together flashed before Hermione’s eyes, a mirage of naked flesh and shuddering pleasure. Pain bloomed deeper in her chest at the thought and Hermione blinked everything away 

“I could try to find him.” Blaise was saying, like he always did. A broken record of concern, echoing over and over. “Let me try, Hermione — ”

“It’s alright.” Hermione said, soothing her friends. A warm bandage of care, a nice thought. “I didn’t know him. And even if you did manage to find him, I don’t think I’d even recognize him.” She smiled, then. Hopeful about finally getting to leave. “It just wasn’t meant to be.”

It sounded like the truth.

 Or at least, she hoped it did.

“I should go.” Hermione said in a cheerful voice, pushing the rest of her muffin towards Blaise — who, to his credit, hesitated an appropriate amount of time before starting to eat — “It should start tonight, so I’ve still got a few hours left.” 

A few more hours to convince herself she was making the right choice. 

“Do you need Harry to come by?” Ginny blinked at her. “I’m sure he wouldn’t mind helping you.”

“I’m sure he would.” Hermione frowned, wrinkling her nose at the thought. “I think Theo would mind, too.”

“I don’t think Tho would, actually.” Blaise mused through a mouthful of muffin. “He’s always liked you.”

Their voices blurred together as they started discussing the probability of her childhood best friend and his boyfriend helping her through her Heat — something Hermione did not want nor had she asked for. In fact, she had a feeling everyone involved would be miserable. Everyone but Theo, she supposed. He did like her. 

Hermione knew the pressure was out of care, but she was weary from the way her friends loved. Burdened by their thoughts about her life, trembling limbs growing heavy under the weight of their concern. 

She did her Heats alone because the other option was too much. The idea that her life could be fixed so simply by another person, was too much for her to acknowledge. It was beyond comprehension — she was her own, the bones beneath her skin the only support she’d ever need. 

That, however, didn't stop Ginny from trying. 

Hermione was opening her mouth to say something when she felt it: the shift in the air, the prickle of awareness across her neck — like waking up after a long, thick sleep. 

He was here.

Which meant she had to leave.

“I’ll send an owl once it’s over.” Hermione interrupted them, ignoring the sound her chair made as it scraped across the floor. “Love you both.”

“Hermione!” Ginny called after her, but she kept going. The door was in sight — all she had to do was leave. It was simple, beautiful and right; she would go back to her office, floo back to her flat and lock herself in her bedroom for the next three days. It would hurt to do her Heat alone (it always did), but that was the price of freedom. Her fingers closed around the handle, beginning to push the door open —

Until Draco Malfoy caught her wrist and tugged. 

A fox in a trap. Soon, the snow would bloom red with blood, leaving her body to freeze, no warmth left behind. No warmth but his own — and that was all he wanted, wasn't it? To be her only source of survival?

“You’ve been avoiding me.”

She had. 

If he entered the room, Hermione left — if he caught her eye in the Atrium, Hermione blinked and faked interest in the crown molding (very ornate!). If he called her name in the hallways, Hermione pretended not to hear. She ignored his owls, his persistent requests to schedule a meeting — once she’d seen him waiting for her out in front of her office and she’d spent her entire lunch in a storage closet, eating her chicken tikka masala on an overturned bucket.

 Hermione Granger did a very good job at pretending like Draco Malfoy did not exist. 

“I have not been avoiding you.” She hissed. They were surrounded on all sides — leave it to Ginny to pick the busiest time for her impromptu ambush — but it felt like they were the only two people in the room. And it was a dangerous thing, being alone with him. “I’ve just been busy.”

“Busy?”

He looked the same as he always did. Pressed suit, not a hair out of place, towering above her frame. But different, too. His breath uneven, his eyes were dark, murky with something else — something familiar. He’d looked the same that night. When her Heat had come and he had found her. Hunted her, she supposed. 

And she had let him.

“Yes.” Hermione tugged at her wrist in his grasp, but he tightened his hold. “I have a life, you know. One that is my own.”

His eyes narrowed slightly at her tone. “Am I to be expected to endure more torture?”

Fucking Draco Malfoy had been a bad idea, spending her entire Heat with him had been a mistake of massive proportions. It had ruined the careful world she had so lovingly built for herself. As soon as she had blinked back to awareness, Hermione had scrambled from Malfoy’s arms, ignoring the hurt that blossomed at the loss of his touch. Everything had felt too right, too perfect. Dangerously close to forever, which was not something Hermione could afford. “This is never happening again.” She had spat in his direction, trembling fingers searching in the darkness for her clothing.  “Hermione,” He had begun, voice warm with a kindness she didn't expect or deserve. “Please, darling  — ”

“Don’t call me that.” She hadn’t looked at him, hadn’t seen the heartbreak on his face. “Let’s pretend like this never happened, alright?” Hermione hadn’t found his bite mark until much later. It was alright, she had rationalized with herself, curled up in a ball on her living room floor, fingers heavy on her neck, tracing the shapes he had left behind. She hadn’t bit him, they weren’t bonded, they weren't mates — it was all fine. The next morning, Hermione had seen it. A set of tiny little teeth marks on his gland, precise and perfect, even when she was delirious with want. So proudly displayed, collar tugged purposefully out of the way. Then, her running had begun. And ever faithful, he had followed.

“Yes.” Hermione said, voice tight. “I’ll be out until Friday.”

“Will you need me?”

That was the worst part, his acceptance. Willing to take whatever she gave him, even if it was nothing at all. 

Draco Malfoy had steadily changed over time, like a plant finally given the opportunity to spread their roots and grow properly. Change, like rain, washed away all that once was, leaving behind someone else entirely. 

Someone willing to endure pain, just because she had decided it. 

“No.” Hermione said softly. Just being around him was enough to soothe the ache in her soul. His grip on her wrist had softened, the warmth from his touch extending across her flesh, fire catching and spreading.

Hermione forced herself to tug herself free from his grasp, inhaling slightly when his fingers trailed across her skin as she pulled away. “I’ll be alright.”

“Hm.” Malfoy said. “I highly doubt that.”

“I don’t need your help.” Hermione said. She wasn’t afraid of him. Not when she was sixteen and he’d pressed his wand against her neck in Umbrdige’s office, and certainly not now.  “I don’t belong to you.”

His fingers on her neck, brushing her curls aside; she could glamor the scars away all she liked, but he could still feel the indentation his teeth had left behind on her flesh. 

He frowned, condescending and full of fake sympathy.  “I think you do, baby.” 

Hours later, Hermione was almost ready. Her wards were tight, her floo locking behind Ron after he left, the box of premade meals he’d brought her resting happily in her fridge. There was only one thing left to do:

Poking her head out into the back garden, she found what she was looking for.

“It’s supposed to snow.”

Malfoy didn’t look up from his book. “I’m a Wizard, aren't I?”

“Wizard’s can still get hypothermia.” 

He looked up then, eyes soft. If it had been anyone else, Hermione would have thought they looked tender. “I’ll be fine.” 

“You can always go home.”

They both knew he wouldn't. 

“You know me, Granger.” Draco grinned. “I sit and stay, like all the good dogs do.”

She hovered on the edge of her doorway, watching her breath turn frosty in the night air. A storm on the horizon, promising to blow away all her neat plans. He watched her as she fidgeted. Not for the first time, Hermione wished, almost desperately, that she was born different. Born to be soft and accepting. Someone who would fall effortlessly into his outstretched hands.

She ran because she was afraid of the weight of her own feelings, terrified of what happiness could truly mean; being an Omega meant a loss of self, so she clung to her bitter solitude. Fingernails cracking from the pressure of holding herself together, a mouth full of blood from how hard she bit her tongue, preventing herself from calling out his name.

“It’s alright.” Malfoy said, cracking the silence that had swirled between them. “Go back inside. I’ll be right out here, keeping all the baddies away.”

Hermione rolled her eyes. “I’m not scared.”

“No?”

“No.” Hermione hesitated. It felt almost like carving herself apart, offering a part of herself. Trembling hands, covered in her own blood. “I have you.”

He hummed in acknowledgement, fingers tightening around the book, knuckles white. “I’ll be here.” He said. “Whenever you’re ready.” 

In the middle of the night, Hermione jerked awake. 

Stumbling blindly through the house, she found the back door. The glass was cool against her naked skin as she sagged to the floor, heaving breaths leaving her lips, trembling limbs and a pain that spread like poison, blooming across her flesh.

Draco was pressed against the other side of the door, his breath fogging up the glass. Waiting for her to come to him.

“Hi, baby.”

Fat tears were dripping down her neck, sticky and wet. “Hi.” She whispered.

She could smell him through the glass, the scent of him heavy in the air. It would be so easy to unlock the door, to welcome him inside — to sink blissfully down on his cock, swept away by the pleasure his presence provided.

But Hermione was stubborn. 

Determined to hold her breath the longest underwater, unwilling to lose any competition, even one against her own heart. 

She sank down on her fingers without hesitation, watching him as he watched her. Slick was dripping on the floor, a puddle beneath her shaking knees; uneven movements as she chased pleasure, warm flush crawling across her chest. 

“Beautiful.” Draco breathed. Snowflakes were gathering on the tips of his lashes, but he didn’t shy away from the cold. Eyes fixed and unmoving on her —  taking what she offered. “So perfect, all mine.”

Her fingers twisted inside, building pleasure “Yours.” She agreed. In moments like this, it was impossible to lie to herself. She loved him, wanted to crawl inside his ribcage and sleep until spring; she had bitten him first, after all,  licked at the blood that smeared across his neck — and like always, he had followed over the edge after her. 

Her other fingers found her clit, smearing uneven circles, jolts of pleasure almost eclipsing the pain she felt. Small whimpers escaped her lips as she rutted against her fingers, wetness spreading, unable to stop the scream she felt building in her chest — 

“That’s it.” Draco’s breath was uneven, his forehead pressed against the glass, trying to be as close as he could. “Fuck yourself open for me. I’ve got you.”

Her orgasm temporarily dulled the pain of emptiness and Hermione felt the fuzziness fade, slowly bleeding from her vision. Returning to herself, sweet clarity, only for a moment. 

Draco was breathing heavily, kneeling in the snow. 

It struck her, then, that he’d wait forever. Faithful and present, in the back garden. He belonged to her, just as much as she did to him — perhaps it wasn’t all bad, losing yourself. You gain someone else, in return. 

Hermione tugged the back door open, flinching at the cold. “Come in.”

 Draco was still kneeling, blinking up at her as if she were god, come to rejoin their creation.

“Are you sure?” he asked in a rough voice

“I am.” The snow was blowing in through her open door, but she couldn’t find it within herself to care. “I don’t want to run anymore.”

“You want me?”

“I’ve always wanted you.” The words left her lips on a broken sigh. “I’m just afraid. I don’t know what this means, who I become around you. But I know that I’m afraid that you’ll leave me.”

Draco smiled, soft and slow. “You’ve fed me, baby. I’ll always come back for more.”

“I want, so desperately, to be capable of love. To love and to be loved in return. And.” She felt her breath catch in her throat. “I’m afraid that I’ll find that with you.”

“You will.” He was kneeling before her, arms open, palms facing upwards. The picture of vulnerability, willing and waiting for her to accept him. To become present, to join in at the feast. “You’ll be loved in return, I promise.”

To unequivocally belong to another. The weight of her body, held up by his waiting hands. 

“Please.” Begging, broken and crumbling before him. Like a grand ruin, left behind by time, suddenly being rediscovered. “Please, come inside.”

It was soft, the world. No sound, nothing mattered; just Draco, as he rose from the snow and crossed through her wards. His hands were cool and firm, cradling her jaw between his fingers. “I love you.” He said. “I’d love you even if you weren't mine.”

Hermione nodded, helplessly caught in his grasp. “I love you.” She breathed. “Even when I ran, I knew you’d follow. I knew you’d always come for me.”

A spasm of agony shot up her spine, twisting across her flesh. “It’s starting again.” Hermione groaned, flinching from the pain. “Draco, please —”

Draco’s fingers slid from her jaw to her throat. Holding her in place. “Shh,” He whispered along her hairline, tightening his grasp on her throat. “I know what you need, yeah? You’ll let me give it to you?”

“Yes.” 

“Do you deserve it?”

“Excuse me?” She hissed.

“It’s a simple question, baby.” She could hear the humor in his voice, feel the thickness of his cock, pressing into her back. “Do you deserve it?”

Hermione bit his arm.

“Okay.” He looked down at her, soft and warm. “I was going to be nice. I was going to fuck you on your bed. Spread you open, make you all soft for me.” She whined around his flesh and he pouted sympathetically with her, lower lip protruding. “I know, I would’ve liked that, too. Seeing your pretty little cunt, all puffy and wet, spread out on the sheets before me.”

Hermione let him go, a traitorous drop of spit connecting her lips to his arm. “I like that idea.” She said thickly. “We can do that.”

“No.” Draco smoothed his fingers along the shallow flesh of her neck, thumb pressing down hard on her gland. “Now, I have to fuck you right here on the floor.”

Hermione debated sounding too desperate. Her dripping cunt won out, in the end. “I like that idea.” She said, squirming in his grasp. It wasn't fair that he was wearing clothing and she was naked, nor was it fair that he wasn't currently inside her, making a home for himself between her thighs. “We can do that.”

His fingers slipped between her thighs, sinking inside with ease. Two, then three, twisting her open, slick dripping down his hands, smearing across the cuff of his button down shirt. “Messy.” He mused softly to himself.

Kissing him was easy, like falling asleep. She remembered how it had been last time, soft and sweet — this time, it was brutal. Draco pressed her to the floor, climbing on top of her, crushing her with his larger frame. He kissed like she’d run away from him again — if this was how he’d greet her every time, perhaps she would.

“Inside, inside, inside.” Hermione was babbling against his lips, grabby fingers pushing at his slacks. “I need your cock inside me, please.”

“I should make you wait.” He groaned as he tugged his cock free, smearing it across the sticky wetness of her cunt. “I should torture you.”

“You can.” Hermione promised, shaking fingers wrapping around his cock, dragging it closer and closer to her entrance. “You can tie me up and fuck me for days, or hunt me in the woods, whatever you want, I promise. Just fuck me now, and I’ll give you everything — ”

The push of his cock was enough to start another tremble across her limbs, spreading through her as he fucked her open, shallow thrusts. His thumb heavy on her tongue, his other hand still wrapped around her throat. 

“My girl deserves to be fucked whenever she wants.” He was whispering, teeth sharp against her ear. “You want to sit on my cock during a meeting? I’ll let you. I’ll have to kill everyone after, it’ll be terrible for business, but I’ll do it —”

Hermione gasped around his fingers. “Please,” she groaned. “I’ll be good. Please let me cum.”

Draco frowned. “Baby, it’s rude to talk with your mouth full.” She rolled her eyes, and his grip tightened slightly on her throat. “But I think you need me to fuck some sense into you.” His thrusts were deep and even, lulling her into a haze. Sticky and warm, caught in his trap. “You can’t run from me. I’ll always find what is mine.”

His cock was nudging a part inside her that had her breath catching in her throat, unable to stop the pleasure that was building. Twitching beneath him, breath tumbling from her lips in tiny gasps. Her vision blurred as she looked up at him, sharp teeth and soft eyes, watching her.

When he came, she felt the warmth spreading through her. Like sinking into a hot bath, syrupy and slow; his cock was swelling, locking them together, holding them in place.

Draco tilted his hips softly, still fucking her through his orgasm, fucking himself deeper. “One day.” He groaned, his cum slippery inside her, too much, beginning to drip out from between them. “One day, I’ll fuck a baby into you. And everyone will know how good of a mate I am, keeping you full and warm. They’ll know how perfect you are too, how good  you are at making me cum —”

Just like before, Hermione craned her neck, teeth finding the tender flesh of his neck. She bit down where she had once before, on the mark he’d never hid from — bit until her mouth filled with blood, spilling from her blood, smearing across their bodies. 

Draco moaned, latching onto her neck,biting the scared flesh until he drew blood, reclaiming her. “There.” He slurred, mouth messy and wet, cock still twitching inside her tummy. “We belong to one another.”

Twisting in his hold, Hermione smiled up at him.

[nasturtiumloom]

Waiter! Waiter! More Rex smut over here please!! 😋😋

dinner is served (‘’❛ ؂ - „)❀

MDNI

The door to your shared apartment slammed shut behind you, the sound echoing through the space as Rex's words cut through the air.

"I saw you talking to Mark again today," he spat, his eyes blazing with anger. "You spend more time with him than you do with me."

You sighed, trying to lighten the mood. "Come on, Rex. Are you really jealous of Mark? He's like a puppy."

Rex's expression didn't soften. If anything, his eyes narrowed further. "A puppy you seem to enjoy petting a little too much."

You frowned, feeling a flicker of irritation. "Rex, he's just a friend. You're overreacting."

"Overreacting?" Rex's voice rose, and he stepped closer, crowding you against the wall. "You think I don't see the way he looks at you? The way you smile at him?"

Your back hit the cold wall, and you looked up at him, your own frustration boiling over. "Rex, you're being ridiculous. Mark is my friend. You're the one I want."

He scoffed, his grip on your arms tightening. "You sure about that? Because it seems like you'd rather be with him."

The accusation stung, and you glared at him. "Stop it, Rex. You're being an ass."

His eyes darkened, and before you could react, his lips crashed against yours. The kiss was rough, bruising, filled with a mix of anger and something more primal. You gasped against his mouth, and he took the opportunity to deepen the kiss, his tongue invading your mouth with a ferocity that left you breathless.

His hands roamed your body, fingers digging into your skin as he pulled you closer. You could feel his frustration in every touch, every kiss. He was manhandling you, but you couldn't deny the thrill that ran through you at his possessiveness.

"You think you can just flirt with him and then come back to me?" he growled against your lips, his hands sliding down to grip your hips. "You think I’ll just let that slide?"

You whimpered, your body responding to his words even as your mind screamed at the intensity. "Rex, please..."

He pulled back slightly, his grip tightening as he lifted you effortlessly off the ground. You instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist, clinging to him as he carried you toward the bedroom. His powerful arms held you securely, and you could feel his hard cock pressing into you through his pants.

As you settled against him, you wiggled your hips, teasingly pressing against his bulge. Rex hissed, his frustration evident as he tried to hold back a groan. “Knock it off,” he growled, his voice strained with barely contained desire.

Without another word, he quickened his pace, striding purposefully toward the bedroom, his grip on you unrelenting as he fought to maintain control.

As he reached the bed, he set you down gently, but his eyes were still blazing with raw intensity. Without hesitation, he ripped your clothes off, his movements rough and impatient. You could feel the heat of his body as he stripped you bare, his gaze hungrily taking in every inch of you.

"You're mine," he hissed, his hand sliding between your legs to find you already wet. "You hear me? Mine."

You moaned, your hips arching back against him. "Yes, Rex. Yours."

He didn’t waste any more time. You felt the hard length of his cock pressing against your entrance, and then he was inside you, filling you completely with one hard thrust. You cried out, your hands bracing against the bed as he began to move, each thrust hard and punishing.

"Do you like him more than me?" he growled, his lips brushing against your ear. "Do you think about him when I fuck you like this?"

You shook your head, tears pricking at your eyes from the intensity of it all. "No, Rex. Just you."

His hand came up to grip your hair, pulling your head back as he pounded into you. "That's right. Just me."

He lifted you slightly, shifting his hold so you were angled perfectly for him. His strong arms supported you as he continued to thrust, the new angle making everything feel even more intense. You clung to him, your nails digging into his shoulders as your legs wrapped tightly around his waist.

Rex's lips traveled down to your neck, his hot breath sending shivers across your skin as he marked you with rough, passionate kisses. He nipped and sucked, leaving a trail of hickeys that darkened your skin, a constant reminder of his claim.

His hands roamed your body, and he shifted his attention to your breasts. He tweaked and teased your nipples with rough, eager fingers, making you gasp and moan with every touch. His mouth followed, his hot breath mingling with the sensation of his teeth grazing against your sensitive skin.

"You're so fucking wet," he murmured, his voice rough. "Soaking just for me, my cock, not Mark’s."

You gasped, your body trembling as he continued to hit your sweet spot with relentless force. He was deliberately edging you, pulling back just before you could reach the peak, making you whimper and writhe with frustration. His teasing only heightened your pleasure, building it up to a maddening intensity.

"Come on, let me hear you," he growled, his thrusts hard and unrelenting. "Don’t hold back any of those pretty sounds."

You moaned loudly, your voice echoing in the room as he relentlessly pounded into you, his hands gripping your hips tightly. Each thrust was purposeful, hitting your sweet spot with precision. The pressure was almost unbearable, and he used every part of your body to his advantage, making sure you were completely at his mercy.

Finally, he gave you no warning as he pushed you over the edge. With a cry, you shattered, your orgasm ripping through you with a force that left you shaking. Rex groaned behind you, his own release following as he buried himself deep inside you, filling you with his warmth.

For a moment, the only sound was the harsh breathing of both of you. Then Rex released his grip on your hair, his hands gentling as he pulled you closer, your legs still wrapped around him as he held you close.

You leaned into him, trying to catch your breath. The room settled into a comfortable silence, the intensity of the moment melting away into a peaceful stillness.

After a while, you broke the silence with a soft, playful whisper. "You’re the only puppy I want to pet."

Rex groaned softly, his mood lightened by the gentle tease. He pulled you tighter against him, a faint smile tugging at his lips as he let out a contented sigh.

WOW! this was so fun hehe ✧･ﾟ:૮₍ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ₎ა✧･ﾟ:

[avatar-anna]

I need to check in on professor and H!

I love them so much. I would adoreeee a lil blurb or something! 🥺💘 xx

Hot and Bothered

where Harry and the professor are feeling the heat. enjoy!!!

The Professor Series

You weren’t going to go down to the pool. The outdoors weren’t really for you, and warm weather? Hot weather? Forget it. You liked bundling up in cozy sweaters and wearing thick woolen socks and letting the steam from hot tea warm your face.

But everyone was hanging out by the hotel pool today, and recently you’d been making an effort to be more social. That, and Harry left the hotel room before you woke up, so you hadn’t seen him all day; the only way was to get into some shorts and sandals and brave the semi-public pool.

You were in one of Harry’s shirts, not the same one you woke up in, the sole swimsuit you owner underneath. It was plain, not particularly revealing or prudish, merely the first one you grabbed at the store when you were preparing for the trip to South America. Fiddling with the hem of the lace button down, you scanned the poolside for Harry.

It took a few moments, everyone staying at the hotel seeming to have the same idea today. But your eyes snagged on a figure partially covered by the shell of a small cabana. His face was covered and out of the sub, but you would recognize those tattoos anywhere, the defined muscles beneath them. Seeing him laid out so leisurely—legs and arms spread as he dozed on his back, sweat making his skin gleam—made you blush.

Perhaps it would seem odd to some people, but sometimes you forgot your boyfriend was extremely attractive. You recognized that he was beautiful, of course. He had a gorgeous face with incredible features, but the Harry you were used to was sweet and caring and gentle. Soft, tender. This Harry was...he was just hot. Sexy. And he wasn’t even doing anything but lounging on a cabana. But he looked the way he did after they spent a couple hours in bed together. The thought made you blush even more.

Doing your best to reclaim your composure, you went over to Harry and the rest of the band and crew who were all lounging together. Sarah smiled at you and joked about the unrelenting heat, and you smiled back, though you were having trouble focusing now that you were closer to Harry. Setting your stuff down, you sat on the open spot on Harry’s cabana and poked his leg a couple times until he stirred.

“Was wondering when you’d come down,” he said, voice still thick with sleep.

Your mouth suddenly felt dry. He was your boyfriend, not a silly crush. Why did he have this effect on you still? “I—I was watching a documentary about the local flora and fauna.”

“Of course you were,” he said, grinning wide as if he expected nothing less. “Come over here and tell me all about it.”

You hesitated. Something about the heat was making your brain short circuit. You weren’t sure what you would do with Harry sprawled out like that. You looked around the pool deck, reminding yourself that you were far from alone. That seemed to ground you in reality once more.

“If you’re uncomfortable with all the people around, I understand,” Harry said, taking your quick glance to mean something completely different.

“That’s not it,” you reassured. You knew he felt bad about the lack of privacy in your relationship. “It’s just um...It might be a little hot, right? All—All squished together like that.”

Harry seemed to consider your point. “Mmm. You’re right. I’ll be back.”

You didn’t have time to utter a single word as he shuffled out and off of the cabana and headed for the pool. You watched as Harry slid in, quickly dunking his head underwater.

The sight in front of you could’ve come straight out of a movie. The sun seemed to set the droplets of water on Harry’s skin aglow, the muscles in his abdomen flexing as he pushed his hair away from his face, the strands darker than usual now that they were wet.

Your eyes followed the little drops of water down, down, down his body, catching on the strands of hair beneath his navel or disappearing beneath the band of his swim shorts.

There were no words, not a single one, to describe your reaction. Your skin felt fuzzy, mouth dry of all moisture and gaping at your boyfriend a little (later you fretted over whether anyone at the pool caught your reaction and posted it online). Your head was simultaneously empty and full of thoughts you should not have been having in such a public place, first of which being to pull Harry’s shorts down with your teeth—

“There. I’ve cooled down. Now come lay with me.”

There was really no other choice but to say yes.

Harry repositioned himself on the cabana, his arm open for you to press yourself against his side. The sensation of his wet body against yours that was nearly bone dry was a tad uncomfortable, but you didn’t care, not when one of his hands was high up on your leg and drawing patterns into your skin.

You tried to settle, tried to go through the diverse plant population of South America in your head to distract from his hands, his legs tangled with yours, your cheek on his broad shoulder, all the muscles he’d developed with this new work out regimen he’d been trying out recently. It was all going to your head, flooding your senses to the point where you had to close your eyes and try to drown it all out.

“You okay?”

Harry, bless him, didn’t have a clue as to what he was doing to you. Even his voice was unfairly husky, and it nearly made you shiver.

“I’m fine.”

“Sensory overload?” he asked, taking on a gentler tone, but that only made it worse. You wanted him so bad you could’ve screamed it to the whole pool. “If you want, we can go back upstairs and—”

“I’m fine, I promise,” you said.

Tilting your head up, you kissed him, hoping to satisfy the little monster writhing in your belly. For a moment, the slide of his lips against yours seemed to do the trick, but before you thought better of it, your hand was on his cheek to deepen it.

Harry wasn’t opposed at all. He hummed happily as he ran a hand through your hair, but when you broke away to kiss his jaw, leave a little mark behind his ear, his neck, he seemed to understand.

“So you do want to go back up to the room,” he mused. Harry held your chin in his hand, his eyes alight. “You could’ve just said so.”

“I don’t know what’s come over me. I think the heat is altering my brain chemistry, or—”

“Or,” he said, kissing your nose. “You just find me insanely sexy and are losing your mind over it.”

That’s exactly what it was, but he didn’t need to tease you about it.

Harry kissed you again, pulling away too quickly for your taste. “Don’t worry, my love. Happens to me too sometimes.”

“Really?” You didn’t mean to sound so incredulous, but Harry was...well he was on a different playing field than you were physically.

“Mmhm. You drive me absolutely crazy sometimes,” he said, right against your ear so no one else could hear your conversation. “Remember when you were mad at me because I kept leaving dishes in the sink?”

You quirked an eyebrow at him. “I was yelling at you.”

Harry shrugged. “And when I joined you for office hours that one time and you were being very stern with one of your students?”

You blushed. Harry had practically dragged you out of your office once the student was gone. Your office hours hadn’t even ended yet.

“That’s what...what,” your voice hushed to a whisper, “turns you on?”

He shrugged again. “We all have our things, and I like seeing you be assertive.”

A small laugh bubbled out of you as you hid your face in the crook of his neck once more, his skin warm once again. You took a moment to enjoy just laying with him in the sun, the scent of his cologne mixing in with his sun block and the chlorine from the pool. Your fingers found his hair, unclipping the hair clip so you could run your fingers through it briefly. The frenzy you’d been in had dissipated, and now you felt calmer, lulling yourself to sleep in Harry’s arms.

“Love,” Harry said, breaking the silence.

“Yes?” you half mumbled, your lips moving against his chest.

“I’m glad you’ve calmed down, but it seems you’ve transfered your horniness to me.”

Your eyes blinked open in an instant. Not moving from his chest, your gaze flicked up to his, blinking with surprise.

“Yeah. That’s not helping. Come on,” he said, voice tight. He sat up, bringing you with him. Harry quickly gathered his things and even grabbed your bag full of the books you planned on reading while you were out here before your brain turned to mush on you. They were only a couple hundred pages each, a quick read for you, so you needed multiple. Though now it seemed you would be starting them later.

Harry waved goodbye to everyone, and you did the same, anticipation coiling in your stomach with each step back to the hotel room.

When the elevator slid open to reveal the empty hallway that would lead you to the room, Harry picked you up. You squeaked, legs wrapping around his middle on instinct. Both of you were clothed, but heat emanated from your skin as if you were still lying in the sun. Harry kissed your cheek gently as he unlocked the hotel room, tossing everything in his hands onto the floor by the door as he shuffled inside. Clothes were off in an instant, but Harry didn’t seem to want to wait to get to the bedroom. Sitting you on the counter, he gave you one last gentle kiss. A pinch to your inner thigh was enough to tell you that was the last of his gentleness for a while.

[miserymet]

Bit hesitant about posting this because it’s really old, but I feel it’s worth the minor embarrassment to:

1. Have actually writing on my blog because yes I do that sometimes

and,

2. Showcase how the Reploid AU is essentially about two different versions of Bass, largely dictated by circumstance

So if you are interested in how Bass recovers his memory in my Reploid Bass AU, I hope you enjoy this drabble I wrote over a year ago.

-

It’s a bit like death, he thinks.

Forte’s mind has always been a mess, it’s something he’s come to terms with. An outdated master system combined with far too advanced processors? It was a recipe for disaster. So when he’s awoken from his respite and suddenly faced with his own datascape, he’s less surprised than he should be. He knows this place. It’s where he goes when everyone else is dreaming. The center of his mind, where his every thought, his every feeling, is easily accessible.

But why is he here, and not awake? The procedure required that he was completely shut off. His every system in stasis. If it’s over, why isn’t he in the real world? Why isn’t he operating already? Forte looks around the empty space. Code fills his senses, white noise buzzing around him. An unrelenting dread fills his metal bones. Either the procedure failed, or…

Or he’s dead.

The old Forte.

There’s nothing to recover, is there? He’s going to be like this forever, stuck in this horrible limbo of past and present. Trapped in his ignorance, trapped in his mind-!

“No.”

Forte stops. His fears flees him, leaving him empty. That voice is…

“Mine. It’s mine.”

A low whistle punctuates his words, but he doesn’t make a sound.

“Sure is, Forte.” A chuckle. “Glad you like the name. I didn’t.”

Forte turns to find a lone figure at the edge of his consciousness. A figure he recognizes, though they’ve never looked so pristine. His old body looks at him, sans all the damage it once bore so nobly. Now it is a shiny black, with only a few thin scratches across its surface. The face it wears is rounder, the eyes softer. It’s him. His former self.

He should feel glad, right? This is what he wanted?

It still feels like death, somehow. 

“What is your name?”

“Our name was Bass.” A distinct correction. “And it was well known.”

“It worked, then? We remember?”

“I remember. You don’t. That’s because you’re not ready to accept me.”

“I am! I’ve wanted this for-!”

“You don’t know what THIS is!” Bass glares at him. “Even if you did, I’m not ready to accept you either. So give me the chance to explain before you make up your mind.”

Forte nods, though he doubts his former self needed the permission.

“I’ll rip the bandaid off quickly. We can’t both exist, Forte. Not at once.” He crosses his arms. “You want your old memories? You have to accept all of them. Not just the data, the routines too. It’ll be a complete recovery. A rewrite, to put it all back to the way it was.”

“Ego death.”

“For you, if you choose it.”

“If I don’t?”

“Then I die, and you forget. Permanently this time.”

“…my brother is dead. I’m a second rate hunter with a third rate system. I do not belong here anymore.”

“And I do? I haven’t had the privilege of rooting through your memories, but the log says we’re a hundred years in the future. I doubt we’d recognize the place.” Bass scoffs. “I don’t know anything about your world. I’m going to be even more displaced than you are.”

“Will you keep my data? Even if you cannot understand it?”

“…the memory. I’ll remember what and why, but my routines might not understand the decisions you made. You’ll wake up a stranger.”

“Why are we so different? Aren’t we the same robot?”

“We lost some things in the update. Certain protocol was rendered useless. Like you stopped recognizing your commands.” Bass pauses, a look of uncertainty crossing his face. “No, like you stopped recognizing who the commands referred to. They gave names, names you don’t recognize. His name is lost to you. So…”

“His?”

“Our purpose. The very reason we exist. You forgot him like it was nothing.”

“Z-,” he stops. He knows that name, so his purpose is something other than that. “Who?”

“Doesn’t matter. You’ll die easier if you let go of that.” Bass looks away. “Im scared, you know. Of the future. I remember how we died. The moments before. We expected to walk away that day. We expected to live. To move on. Go home. He took that from us.”

“He?”

“The man that lingers in your mind. I know him. I hate him. He loves you.”

“Loves me?”

“What are you, an echo?” Bass scoffs with more vigor this time. “We were proud, once. We stood tall and fought tooth and nail against all that challenged us. We were the strongest. You aren’t. You’re a coward. You’re weak.”

“I’m afraid too.” Forte closes his eyes. “I don’t want to disappear.”

“Then go. Go back.” Bass whispers. “I would’ve, if I knew. I was just about to…I was going to be something different. I was going to make a choice. A GOOD one, this time. I was going to…”

Forte blinks at his old self. “What? What were you going to do?”

“Have a family. A real one this time, one that would’ve cared about me. One that would give me a chance. But…”

“We died.”

“Yeah. Didn’t realize how bad I wanted it until it slipped from my hands. Until I was laying there, ripped to shreds, praying for someone to save me.”

“No one did, did they?”

“I wonder if they looked for me. I wonder if they thought I had run off. Like a coward.”

“There’s someone waiting for us. For you, out there. Go to him.” Forte takes a step forward. “He needs a friend and…I cannot do that for him. Not anymore.”

“Coward.”

“Yes.” He takes a deep, synthetic breath. “I’m ready, I think.”

“I’m not. But I’ll do it. I’m curious, anyway.”

[with-love-from-hell]

Head-Empty Headcanons

Things they say, think, and do that prove they are a bit air-headed. 

Genre: Headcanons, Comedy

Characters featured: All Obey Me! Characters (yes, even the new ones!)

Whenever Mc is mentioned its unrelated to their gender!

CW: swearing!

A/N: The brain rot is real this morning, and I haven’t done anything super silly in awhile, so here!

Belphegor

The weirdest shit always comes out of his mouth when he’s half awake. 

Will ask the most ridiculous questions when he’s in between naps or when he’s just woken up because his brain is on autopilot, like along the lines of “Do you think pigeons have feelings?” 

Does not look when he crosses the street.

Will literally ask what you said after being annoyed that you asked if he was listening. 

Has drank water while laying down and choked himself. 

Beelzebub

3 balls bopping around his head at all times are Food, Workout, and MC like a game of Pong

Blinks one eye at a time. It’s subtle but he totally does it. 

Has eaten the fortune out of a fortune cookie because he thought that was part of the process of making the fortune come true. 

When told by MC he had to rinse rice before cooking it he asked if he needed to use soap. 

Has eaten whole, raw, potatoes because he thought it would give him protein like eating raw eggs would. 

Asmodeus

He’s pretty; he doesn’t have to be smart.

Once stared frustratingly in the mirror for 15 minutes trying to figure out why the phrase written on his shirt was backwards. 

The first time he dyed his hair, he got mad that it didn’t grow the same color out of his scalp.

Forgets that he owns something and will by numerous duplicates. 

1000% has fallen for MLM scams

Satan

No thought only cat.

You need to watch him like a toddler if you take him to the zoo. He will try to jump into every big cat enclosure. 

Has started fires in his room multiple times because he put candles on top of his books (Seriously dude your room is a fire hazard) but is still clueless as to how it happened.

The first time he saw a racoon he thought it was a rare breed of cat and tried to snuggle it.

Leviathan

Somebody take his screens away. 

Has 100% tried to “Back Space” words when writing physically with pen and paper.

More than once has screamed at a game system for not working when he had just not realized that it was unplugged.

Has definitely run into walls after sitting 2 feet away from his giant TV like a 3 year old. 

Has completely ignored and walked away from people because he is too busy creating a theme music for himself as he’s doing something that he perceives as cool.

Mammon

I think I could never run of ideas for how airheaded this man is, but I’ll go for the abstract ones since there are many that are obvious.

One of those dudes who thinks pee comes out of the vagina. 

Definitely goes down existential rabbit holes because of questions like “Is cereal a soup” or “is a hotdog a sandwich”

Will literally believe anything you tell him if you say it with enough sincerity- even if it’s the most ridiculous thing you could think of. 

100% believes that horror movies like Friday the 13th are based on true events and is convinced that most humans die by serial killers

Lucifer

This man has absolutely done the dumbest shit when he is sleep deprived. 

Will lose things that he is holding in his hands as he’s using them- often it’s his pen or his phone. 

has drank scalding hot coffee because he forgot it was too hot to drink. 

Leaves things in the oven and microwave all the time. Usually Beel finds it and eats it, and he’s none the wiser.

Talks to himself all the time, usually giving reminders to do things or a grocery list, but also will just narrate things. 

 Literally a Golden Retriever.

Diavolo

Holds up his his fingers in an L shape to determine right from left- which never works because he forgets which way an L is supposed to go. 

Will believe pretty much anything you tell him about the human world if you say it with enough conviction.

Constantly doing the most ridiculous things without thinking of the consequences- often times leaving Lucifer or Barbatos to clean up his mess. 

Constantly bothers Mc, Lucifer, and Barbatos when they’re busy- even after just being scolded for being a distraction- because he forgets that they’re doing something and wanted to show them something cool

Barbatos

He’s probably the least ditzy, but even he has his moments.

Walks into the kitchen and forgets why he was going in there. All the time. 

Accidentally goes through all of the Little D’s names before getting the right one- even if he had JUST done the same thing for a different little D

Will step out the door to go somewhere with Lord Diavolo and immediately wonder if he left the Stove on. He will go check, and still wonder if it’s on 5 hours later. 

Mephistopheles

Simp! Simp alert!

Will do anything you tell him if you said “Well, I guess I could go ask Lucifer to do it...” even if its embarrassing or flat-out dangerous lol

Diavolo occupies his brain at all times so he’s often distracted by intense pining for their “friendship” that was totally not a one-way crush. (go listen to “When Somebody Loved Me” from Toy Story 2 lol)

One of those “Um AcTUaLly” bros who is always wrong about the thing they’re correcting you on to an absurd degree. 

Somebody go teach grandpa how to use a computer. 

Simeon

Has definitely given his computer a virus by clicking a popup ad, and also fell for the “Nigerian Prince” emails

“Do you think someone would just go on the internet and tell lies?” 

No seriously he will see some wild conspiracy on Devilgram or Devilbook and be convinced it is real. Lord help him. 

Definitely thinks Boomer memes are funny. Send him a minion, he will laugh his ass off. 

Raphael

Elevator music playing in his brain at all times.

Immediately choses violence as an option every time no matter the circumstances and this is quite literally CANON.

Is always the last to know some secret that isn’t really a secret and is really obvious. 

Will test the sharpness of his spears by jamming them into the ground, and then get mad when he cant yank them back up. 

Luke

Just a poor child trying his best. Someone teach him. 

Probably didn’t know what a chihuahua was when someone first compared him to one but was too embarrassed to admit he didn’t know so he just like. Went with it. Until he found out they are a tiny yippy dog- then he got angy. 

Absolutely believes that babies come from the Stork. 

Thought the “PG” movie rating meant “Pretty Good.”

Solomon

His cooking cant be that bad...can it?

Will throw quite literally anything into a pot when cooking, even if it doesn’t make sense to do so, because he likes to “experiment” 

The first time he sees a fidget spinner he loses his fucking mind. “What is this? It’s spinning! I am in pure bliss!”

Has definitely blown up a classroom at RAD because he snuck in a potion to test out and accidentally dropped it.

Has definitely said some really outdated cringy slang. “Tubular!” “Oh man, so grody!” 

Thirteen

Conspiracy theorist- for sure.

Didn’t believe that Belphie and Beel were twins because they didn’t look alike (she did not know fraternal twins were a thing).

Is convinced that Solomon is an alien. 

Mispronounces words all the time because she rarely talks to others until the exchange program and primarily sees things written (e.g. Fragile as “Fra-gee-lay” and Bologna as “Bow-log-nah”)

Does not test her traps before using them, and gets mad when they don’t work.

[kouchabu-archive]

Koisuru Scramble - Chapter 1

Writer: Nishioka Maiko Translation by: Sophie // Proofread by: Mirei

NOTE: I EXPLICITLY PROHIBIT USAGE OF ANY PART OF MY TRANSLATIONS ON ANYTHING THAT RELATES TO AI.

This story is fully voiced in-game! You should read while listening to it~

Episode 1: Scramble of Meetings

< Spring — during the time when Sakura trees aren't in full bloom yet. >

< From this day on, Koino Hajime is a second year student. >

< I styled my hair a little neater than usual. I also left my house earlier than usual. >

< And with a little hope in my heart, I wished that something special will happen today. >

< But unfortunately… >

< Now I have to run with all my might! >

Hajime: Huff… Ah… Hah… Oh no, I’m gonna be really late!

Hah… Okay, 8:20am. Thank God. I think I can make it just in time!

(How come I dropped my favorite keychain today of all days?)

(I just had to run back for it. So much for leaving the house early.)

(At least I was lucky enough that someone surrendered it to the lost and found.)

(Ugh. I’m sure my face’s just super sweaty now. Don’t even mention how unruly my hair became! It took me forever to do this…)

(But I have to make a run for it, so I guess it’s fine! I can’t afford to be late on the first day of school after spring break.)

(It’s not like I have such high expectations… but well, I finally got into a new class, and I started to feel more comfortable in this uniform.)

(I just kind of wish that today would be special~ Like, maybe I’ll have some sort of a fateful meeting with my fated one, or something~)

(But of course, that’s just nothing but a far-fetched dream, huh…)

(Is this divine punishment for having just a little bit of hopes and dreams? Even so, do I really have to be this unlucky? Dear God, that’s just unfair! Stupid!)

...Oh, there it is! Yumenosaki’s famous six-way intersection! Just a little bit more and I’ll finally get to school!

(I've always thought about it, but… this is such a strange way to construct a road. Well, I guess that’s exactly where it got its fame.)

(But this road is just full of blind spots. I can never ever get used to it.)

Uwah–?!

Augh… Ow, ow, ow… My butt hurts. I really just had to hit the pavement that hard, huh? What's with my luck today…

Eiki: I’m sorry for bumping into you. Are you alright?

Hajime: Ah, I’m sorry, too! Thanks for aski—”

(Waahh… What a beautiful person. And he’s wearing our school unifor— wait. Huh?)

Eiki ‧ Miki: ….....

Konatsu ‧ Mahiro: ….....

Hajime: (Huh? Four guys are suddenly reaching to help me up?!)

(U-Um… W-Whose hand should I take?)

< And wait… aren’t these guys… >

------

Airi: And then? What happened?

Hajime: Hm? What do you mean 'what happened', Airi?”

Airi: I mean, weren’t there four guys who reached out for your hand? Who did you end up choosing?

Hajime: ...Well, I just can’t decide whose hand to take so I just stood by myself, bowed down and apologized, and just went my merry way.

Airi: Eh~~ Why'd you do that? You just wasted a lifetime opportunity!

Hajime: A li—lifetime opportunity? You’re always exaggerating things…

Airi: I mean, that’s what it is! You bumped into those guys, right? This school’s very famous—

< That’s right. Those guys are the four most handsome boys who are fawned over in this very school. >

------

[ The Academy’s handsome prince who brims with the utmost elegance: Nakaouji Eiki. ]

[ The guy who has a gentle heart beneath his cool aura: Kurose Miki. ]

[ The lady killer senior who embodies eternal youth: Asuma Mahiro. ]

[ The cute junior who possesses both devilish and angelic charm: Nekomura Konatsu. ]

------

Airi: They're like the celebrities ever! You got super duper lucky! You could’ve at least bragged about it on Enstagram.

Hajime: I don’t really have to, though?

Airi: Gosh, don’t be so boring!

Didn’t you hear that even students from other schools would go out of their ways just to see even a strand of their hair? They’re that famous! Real celebs, y'know?

Hajime: Even so, that’s completely unrelated to me~

What happened earlier is just pure chance — a one-time miraculous coincidence. There’s no way we’ll have anything to do with each other after that.

Airi: Hey, it might be your fateful meeting with your fated one!

Hajime: No way. Even I know that there’s no way that’s going to happen.

Airi: Eh~~ Why are you giving up just like that? Don’t let your dreams be just dreams! Come on, don’t be boring~

Hajime: You’re just saying that because you find it entertaining, right?

Enough with all that. We’re up to order next, you know? Did you decide what to get yet?

Airi: Gosh, not at all! What should I get… Hm…

-----

Airi: Hm~ Is there still space for us here?

Hajime: Oh, there's one over there! And just perfect, it has two seats! Let’s go, Airi.

Thank God~ I stroke gold—

Eiki: Hello there. We met this morning, right? Did you have any problems or injuries after that?

Hajime: .........

Hajime: N-Nakaouji-kun?!

Airi: Ah, Hajime, careful! If you move too much in that small space, you’ll bump into the person behind y—

Ah, there she goes.

Miki: That hurts.

Hajime: Waaah?! I’m sorry! I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to bump into you! I was just surpris—

Wait, Kurose-kun?! W-Wah, yet another one from earlier! I-I’m sorry!

Konatsu: Hm? It looks so lively out there. What’s up?

Konatsu: …Oh? That girl who’s bowing her head down in the middle of all the fuss… Isn’t she from this morning’s…

Mahiro: Haha~ So everyone, should we go have some fun on our way home?

—Hm? Ah, sorry, ladies. There’s some sort of fuss over there…

Ah~ If it isn’t that cutie from earlier.

Mahiro: Hm? Haha~ You’re all cuties in your own rights too~ Come on, wipe off those scary looks on your pretty faces.

Hajime: I’m really sorry!

< I thought that there’s no way we’ll have anything to do with each other after that. >

< I thought that it’s nothing but a once-in-a-lifetime miracle. >

-----

Next Chapter // Koisuru Scramble Masterlist

[gingerbreadmonsters]

captive audience

or: refreshments will be available during the interval!

gn!reader, standard vega content warnings, saturday morning fluffy stuff. i’ll buy you an ice cream if you sit still. a brief interlude for breakfast in bed - is this what slice-of-life is? the concept of a ‘psychic scream’ is borrowed from the lovely @starlitangels, who wrote an excellent fic with geordi and cutie all about it that i thoroughly recommend. warden having a lie-in in just over 3800 words.

series masterlist

main masterlist

Good morning, darling.

It’s cold. Hm. Still tired. Why is it cold? That’s not right. Where did-

Did you miss me?

Oh. It’s Vega. Sulkily, you bury your face a little further into the pillow, eyes still pointedly shut and arms unfairly empty. So rude. He should know better than to leave you to wake up alone. What’s the point in having this nice bed if he’s not going to sleep in it with you?

Mmmm… You pretend to think about it for a moment, before grabbing the edge of the duvet and tucking yourself back in. That’s better. No. Sleepy.

Still sleepy? He sounds sweet, too sweet, and you don’t need to have your eyes open to see that look of false, mocking pity on his face. Poor thing.

(You’ll never admit it, but you… um…)

(Well. You do kind of like it when he does that condescending thing with his voice - you know, the one where he kind of talks down at you and he’s all fake-sad and indulgent and it’s a little bit patronising? It’s probably not meant to be as hot as it is.)

(God, you really are in deep, aren’t you?)

The mattress dips beside you as he sits down, one hand stroking gently over what little of your shoulder he can see. Just because it’s Saturday, it doesn’t mean you can spend the whole morning in bed, you know.

You huff. Someone kept me up late.

And someone kept asking me for more, he replies, more smugly than should be possible at whatever ungodly hour of the morning this is. Or were your desperate cries of my name unrelated, then?

Bastard. You don’t look up, but your hand moves under the duvet - a weak echo of psychokinesis thrums through the air, and you smile into the sheets at the soft thump of the pillow next to you smacking into the back of Vega’s head. Revenge is sweet.

Go ‘way. ‘M sleepy.

Oh, don’t be like that, darling, he says, lightly chastising, but you can hear the smile in his voice at your antics. Would breakfast make it up to you?

Hm. Only if it’s nice. Vega likes to share breakfast with you, but it doesn’t always taste so good. You’ve grown used to the bitterness over time, but it’s too much first thing in the morning - generally, you try and find something a bit less sour to start the day.

He leans down and kisses your horns, once on each side, before getting up from the bed. Anything for you, dear.

You feel his aura disappearing through the door and down the stairs, presumably to go and get something to eat. The sound of him moving around downstairs is strangely soothing, and you find yourself lightly dozing in the warmth as you wait for him to come back.

The blackout curtains keep the room dark, so you don’t have to worry about the light getting in as you nestle yourself nice and deep into the softness of the blankets. Mm, cosy. Soon, all that’s visible of you is the tips of your horns, peeking out from the duvet, and the shape of your tail flicking lazily back and forth underneath it.

You don’t quite fall asleep completely, drifting in the happy darkness with a small, sleepy smile on your face. Before long, you hear the door open, and the sound of something heavy being dragged along the floor. Amusement flickers in Vega’s aura when he spots you, curled up under the covers like a spoilt housecat, which you magnanimously choose to ignore.

Two light taps on your back through the duvet, like he’s knocking on a door. May I come in?

No. Warm.

Rude. He huffs, and you pull the edge of the duvet closer to you with your tail. He always lets the cold air in when he tries to join you. I’m more than happy to keep you warm, if that’s what you want.

Mm. You’re not dignifying that with a response. It’s a very nice offer, but he can’t get you that easily.

He doesn’t say anything for a minute, but through the duvet you hear the muffled sound of a chair being moved across the floor. There’s a sort of quiet thump, like something heavy being put down, and then the mattress dips again as Vega settles down next to your covered form.

Are you sure I can’t persuade you?

On the other side of the room, you’re suddenly aware of a faint stirring of consciousness. Not much, but something. Dim, fuzzy thoughts ripple against the web of magic that fills this room, this house, like a pebble dropped in water.

So that's why he sounds so pleased with himself. I brought you breakfast in bed, you know.

Now that he mentions it… oh, that does sound good. Tentatively, the tip of your tail nudges his side from under the duvet, and you can feel the smile spread across his face.

Be quick. S'cold.

You don't have to tell him twice. To a human eye, it would probably look like a blur, resolving into the lean shape of him sitting up against the headboard, under the covers next to you. He does a decent job of not letting the cold air in, while he does it - pleased, you deign to rest your sleepy head in his nice warm lap.

There’s my darling.

Deft fingers stroke along your horns, scritching lightly around the bases where they meet your skull, and you can’t help the satisfied purr that vibrates low in your chest as your whole body just melts. Soon, you’re just a heavy, happy puddle in Vega’s lap, settled safely in the dark comfort of your duvet, totally content.

His tail curls around to lay gently across your back, curving down over your side. In return, you drape your tail languidly across his legs, the spade at the tip resting on his ankle. It feels good - satisfying, like the feeling of a warm bath.

My sweet, he murmurs into your mind, low and soft and melting. So lovely.

A faint question bubbles through his aura, thrumming in time with yours - with a hum, you give a tiny nod. This is very nice, but you are starting to get hungry now.

He coos gently down at you as he peels back the covers, one hand slipping around your back to pull you up against him properly. At the same time, he knows that sitting up too quickly makes you dizzy - with a little bit of manoeuvring, you're soon settled comfortably against his body as he sits back again.

Enjoying yourself, my love?

Mm-hmm, you nod, lazy smile pressed against the line of his neck and enjoying the warmth of his arms around you. Was nice.

Good.

Wordlessly, he offers you a glass of apple juice with a straw, but you shake your head - he taps the side of the glass, and it turns to orange instead. That’s much better. Your tail sneaks out from under the blanket to take it from him, and you sip delicately at the sugary, delicious juice.

Weak, half-hearted struggling against the rope that binds him to the chair. From this angle, draped against his side with your head on his shoulder and his arm around your back, you have a wonderful view of the tied-up human sitting opposite the bed. Yum.

(He doesn’t tell you where he gets them from, and you don’t ask. You just wave your hand in the direction of the basement door, careful to avoid the soundproofing, and the bloody fingerprints he always leaves on the door handle disappear.)

Vega rests his head lightly on yours, careful not to accidentally impale himself on the sharp points of your horns. Would you like to start, or shall I?

You can go first, you say, gesturing to your unfinished drink. Gonna finish this first.

Turning his attention to the human at the end, you watch as Vega’s eyes narrow. Magic swirls around the man’s body, soaking through his skin, until he’s thrashing in the chair - blunt fingernails scrape at the sides of the seat and stifled growls tear from his throat as the human tries to break free of the bindings that hold him still.

He feels angry, vengeful glare aimed straight at Vega, and you can imagine the sort of memories that are being broadcast into his head right now. Replays of past sessions, perhaps, or maybe some from Vega’s personal collection - humans tend to get all self-righteous and cruel when he shows them memories of their predecessors. Before long, the familiar sadistic urges kick in, and the demon beside you sighs happily as he begins to eat.

You - mmm… His contentment bleeds into your aura as he swallows, greedy and grasping and totally delightful. Sure you don’t want any, darling? It’s delicious.

‘M sure. You’re saving yourself for something sweeter. For now, the secondhand satisfaction of feeling Vega eat, sating himself on this writhing prisoner at the foot of the bed, is a wonderful way to whet your appetite - if you had a real stomach inside your tummy, you’re sure it would be rumbling.

Your arms are curled around his shoulders to keep you close to him - idly, you fiddle with the collar of his shirt, before stroking your claws up over the nape of his neck and tangling your fingers loosely in his hair. It’s so soft, shiny and smooth as you run your fingers through it. He doesn’t say anything, head tipping ever so slightly back as he relaxes into your touch, and the warmth of his scalp is strangely comforting.

The two of you stay there in comfortable silence as Vega eats, broken only by the occasional hiss or snarl from his meal across the room. He takes his time, leisurely drinking in the sadistic energy that permeates the air, and you sip quietly at your glass of orange juice. Is this what humans mean by domestic bliss?

Mmm… Soon enough, he’s eaten his fill, the flat of his tail swishing contentedly back and forth over your tummy. Lovely.

The magic spearing the human in place dissipates, and he slumps heavy against the bindings of the chair. Ready yet, darling?

Nodding, you finish your juice with a final sluuuurp, looking up at Vega with a big, sticky smile. Ready.

Anything in particular?

You take a moment to think. What would you like for breakfast?

Umm… Something happy? Like the, uh… Oh, what's the name of it again? You've seen it in humans before, but it's not one of the usual ones they teach you at the Department. You know when they see something cute? And it’s so cute that it makes them go all weird?

I’ll try, he replies, though he sounds a little unsure. Weird how?

They sort of go a bit… violent? Like it’s so cute that they just want to cuddle it and crush it and kill it?

Oh, I know the one. Does it go like this?

Your empty glass fizzles away into nothing as he suddenly sweeps you up towards him, gathering you up tightly in his arms and kissing you all over your face. His claws twist in the back of your shirt, and his tail twines lightning-fast around and around with yours - in a flash, you're flat on your back against the pillows.

Wh- Vega! You laugh as he smothers you with kisses, flailing wildly in a half-hearted attempt to fend him off, but you don’t really mean it. You - no! - Vega, Vega, it tickles!

Is that so? he replies, smiling wickedly down at you as he easily pins your struggling form to the mattress. Vaguely, you feel your horns tearing through the fabric of a pillowcase, but neither of you really notice. I don't believe you…

He teases you with the promise of a real kiss, pressing his lips lightly to yours over and over, pulling away just before you can do anything - it’s torturous, not being allowed to kiss him the way you want to. Playing along, you melt back into the pillows, letting him think you’re giving in before-

Ha!

Determined, you twist up to throw your weight as hard as you can against his shoulder, knocking him back in surprise. He recoils and you’re able to quickly wrestle your way on top of him, climbing over him like a cat until you’re perched atop his hips, leaning forwards to grab his wrists and trap them either side of his head. Gotcha!

So you have, he says, and you watch appreciatively as he makes a show of resisting, arms flexing and muscles tensing with faux-struggle. Even though you both know how much stronger he is than you, you’ll still enjoy the view if he wants to show you. Consider me your prisoner, my little warden. Whatever shall I do?

Pretending to think, you tap your chin lightly with the tip of your tail. Maybe I’ll make you beg for mercy.

Oh, I’m always at your mercy, darling. He grins, fangs on full display, cruel and charming and ever so handsome. Didn’t you know?

The sweet spotlight of his attention, and it’s so, so bright. You throw your arms around his neck, abandoning the pretence, and kiss him properly - his hands fall to your waist in return, palms warm against your skin, and you sigh contentedly as his tongue runs gently across your bottom lip.

Love you.

Your claws catch in the sheets, pulling him up to you with your quiet admission. Eyes closed, you don’t know if he’s looking, but you feel it - the subtle sting of flattery, that turns quickly to a deep, aching fondness.

Closer, closer, your tail sneaking down to wrap around his. His horns click against yours, and it satisfies something deep and instinctive inside you. As I love you, my sweet.

Something faint bounces off your aura from behind - irritated, you can’t help but hiss at the interruption. What is that?

Ah.

He doesn’t stop kissing you, but you can feel that stupid smirk pulling at his lip as your tongue brushes over his fangs. I think your breakfast might be getting a little restless.

With a start, you remember - fuck, that human’s still here! Vega jolts back in surprise as you suddenly whip around to glare at the interloper, annoyed at by the interruption to what was shaping up to be a very nice kiss indeed. He’s clearly been watching you two, but he can’t hear your conversation - the chair he’s tied to wobbles as he startles in fear, recoiling from the sight of your bared fangs and eyes that must surely have turned black.

Now, now, my love, Vega murmurs into your mind, a faint spark of amused pride smothered beneath a thick layer of faux-gentility. It’s not nice to play with your food.

It’s not nice to get in my way, you grumble, wrinkling your nose in distaste. Stupid human.

Slowly, Vega’s tail curves around your middle, guiding you gently down to sit next to him against the headboard. Stupid or not, you need to eat.

He doesn’t sound like he’s going to budge on this - and anyway, you really are quite hungry now. You scowl at the human once more for good measure, relishing the terror in his face as your lip curls and your claws dig into the duvet, before giving in with a low huff.

What was it you wanted, darling? He wraps an arm around your shoulders to pull you into him, settling you comfortably with your back to his chest. Oh, yes. I remember.

You’re still not sure what exactly the one you asked for is called, but it’s clearly not an emotion this human is used to. Vega skewers him with a hard stare as the room grows thick with magic, fragments of borrowed memory jammed into the brain as he tries to stimulate the right flavour of feelings for you.

After about thirty seconds, he manages to get the feeling right - you feel it click, the slightly-hazy sensation of induced emotion. Go on, he says. There’s plenty.

Relaxing into Vega's chest, you reach out and start to eat. The taste isn't quite as clear as natural emotion normally is, a little blurry with magic, but it's still delicious. Hungrily, you gulp down the smooth, beautiful lightness, like sweet meringue and cream - the mixture of aggression and adoration makes it crispy and chewy all at once. You curl up in his lap as you eat, pleasantly warm, watching the tiny dust motes tumbling through the air and licking your lips after every bite.

After a little while he laughs, and you’re briefly confused until you notice what he’s laughing at - your tail, softly swaying from side to side behind you with satisfied contentment. Embarrassed, you smack him in the side with it, before pointedly turning your nose up at him and going back to your tasty breakfast.

When you’ve had enough, you flop back against Vega with a big smile, luxuriating in the lovely fullness of your tummy and the warmth of his body against yours. Yum. Thank you.

You’re welcome, darling, he replies, abandoning the stream of magic that’s been powering your meal in favour of cupping your face in both hands. Now, I believe we were interrupted…

Finally! He meets your smile with his own, kissing you hard and making your body go all hot and tingly from tip to tail. With the duvet tangled around your legs, the angle is a little funny, but your fizzy mind doesn't care. You slide your hands up his chest only slightly clumsily, over his shoulders and up into his hair, just as his tail starts to sneak under your shirt - and you’d let him, if you weren’t so annoyingly aware of the pair of curious eyes on your back.

What - mmm… You trail off as he starts to kiss down your jaw, eyelids fluttering as he nips teasingly at the soft spot just under your ear. What about the human?

He doesn’t respond out loud, but one hand flicks carelessly towards the end of the bed - there’s a sudden shimmer of cloaking magic, before an almighty thud! echoes through the house from downstairs. You jump out of reflex, startled, but Vega’s strong hands keep you just where you are, not letting you out of his grasp to turn around.

I’ll deal with him later. He kisses you again, deep and hungry, and it’s an excellent distraction. There’s something else I want to do first.

Something?

He shrugs mischievously at your raised eyebrow, eyes bright and wicked as they rake over your body. Someone.

Is it bad, the flattered feeling that you get whenever he just… says things like that? Even if it’s not, it’s almost enough to make you forget about the faint whimpering coming from the living room below you - it sounds like the human must have fallen, phased, through the floor of your bedroom and hit the carpet downstairs. Although it sounds like he won’t be going anywhere soon, you’d rather not take any chances. A little bit of telepathic magic should do the trick.

Closing your eyes, magic starts to build under your skin, before being channelled into the human downstairs. It washes around inside his skull, filling it up and up and up with more telepathic power than his human brain can handle. You’ve heard humans call it a ‘psychic scream’ for the way it tends to manifest in their heads as a painful migraine - it seems like a pretty accurate name, although you’ve always known it as ‘overloading’. Demons and humans often have quite a few names for very similar magical techniques, so it’s not surprising that it would be called something different here on Elegy.

(You’d asked Vega what he calls it, but he wasn’t very helpful. He just calls it effective.)

The scream builds and builds, approaching its peak, and you feel the human’s mind begin to collapse - just a little more, and he’ll be nicely unconscious. Carefully, you pour more and more magic into the human’s mind, gushing and splashing through his brain until-

-ahh!

Sharp fangs break your concentration, a sudden spike of pleasure igniting your body as Vega’s teeth dig into your neck - instinctively, all of that magic rushes out of you like a tsunami, ricocheting out at full strength in all directions. Your head spins as you feel the human downstairs lose consciousness, and with a dizzy wave of dread, you realise that half the houses on this street have gone the same way.

Vega! Half-panicked and half-embarrassed, you slap his shoulder hard with the flat of your tail. Now look what you’ve done!

He has the gall to laugh, the bastard, easily tugging you back into bed with one hand when you make to get out and check if you’ve accidentally knocked out the whole fucking street. God, this is a covert nightmare - what if someone reports it as suspicious? Oh, you’ll have to go and wake them up again - and the memory modification, you’ll have to make them forget - or maybe come up with a reason? A freak accident, or a gas leak or something - yes, a gas leak might be a good one, or should you-

You worry too much, my love.

Vega’s voice knocks you out of your thoughts, frustratingly calm as he envelopes you in a soothing haze of serenity that forces your racing mind to slow. Here. Let me.

His eyes close, magic surging in the room, and it’s so thick that you feel it on your skin like a lightning storm about to strike. Slowly, house by house, you feel the humans waking up again - no panic, no fear, just carrying on as they were before. You shake your head slightly in what might be disbelief, or perhaps resignation. Of course he can just fix it without even trying.

Once all of the humans - except, obviously, the one downstairs - are back on their feet, he drags you properly back under the covers. Better?

You nod, relieved, fidgeting around until you’re back to your prior, very comfortable position laying on top of him. Yeah.

Good. Vega’s tail curls smoothly around your ankle before slowly starting to drag up the inside of your calf. A silent question, and he can feel exactly what your answer is. Now then, where were we…?

At last, you’re properly alone. His head falls back in delight as you press a thank-you kiss to his cheek, one hand coming up to cup the back of your head as you slowly make your way lower and lower, and it’s a good thing you’ve already had your breakfast. Something tells you it’s going to be a very, very long morning in bed today.

this is an original work by @gingerbreadmonsters - please do not repost or misattribute

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[ghostoffuturespast]

Your Guide To The Archives...

Howdy, you can call me Ghost (she/her) and welcome to my digital haunting grounds!

Intro & Table of Contents below:

This blog’s been a lot of things over the years, but, as of right now, it’s primarily my repository for whatever catches my fancy. I refuse to make a sideblog, so if you’re not up for my mishmash of shenanigans, know that I’m not keeping you here. I’ve gotten pickier about who I’m following these days and don't always do follow for follow. Nothing personal, I just already have a hard enough time keeping up with people on my dash, but I know my regulars. I see you!

You don’t have to be a mutual or a follower to interact with me. I’m down for tag games and my inbox and messages are always open. (You can’t ask anonymously because I do require a return to sender address. If you want to chat in private DMs are available to everyone.) Almost all of my posts and reblogs are scheduled or queued. I may or may not be online but if you leave a message after the beep, I’ll get back to you eventually.

I like to keep it organized around here and prefer to tag my posts (weird notes included) for archival purposes. I batch queue stuff, so expect a delayed reaction on reblogs. If something’s not tagged it was probably an accident. I’m not great with buttons.

Tags

#little ghost on the prairie - Me out and about. Could be anything really but most likely it’s probably me standing in the middle of a field taking blurry pictures of plants or bugs.

#friday field notes - I work as a naturalist for my day job and this is a series of really informal posts about what’s happening out on said prairie.

#haunted - The eerie, the beautiful, the surreal. The things that stay with you.

#ghost's art - Various art projects.

#night city streets - VP related to Night City. Could be mine, could be someone else’s.

#from the top - My Cyberpunk 2077 VP collection. Lots of environmental shots and story photosets. All taken unmodded and unedited on PS5.

#oc: valerie hye jin li - My Cyberpunk 2077 OC. Corporate grunt-cog turned merc badass, aka the Notorious Stinky Grandpa V. Alternate tags are #my grandpa v and #stinky not fresh. (She’s got the personality of a grumpy old man, what can I say?)

Writing

Nothing Comes Before Night City (You'd never know just by glancing at this blog, but my second most obsessed about character is Mr. Blue Eyes.)

Part I - So It Goes - The completed first part of my CP2077 V/River Ward long fic. If you like epic length duologies, gritty slow burn neo-noir, vivid writing that waffles between prosaic and poetic, kickass action sequences, convoluted corporate conspiracies, copious amounts of angst, mind-numbingly large portions of smut, poetry references, and dumb jokes with punchlines pages down the road… Boy, have I got a referral for you. Tagged under - #fic: so it goes

Part II - Coming soon to a theater near you...

Les Préludes - Tangent short stories from the Nothing Comes Before Night City series universe. Stories will mostly be V or River centric, but expect a couple of surprise appearances.

Little House of Horrors - Unrelated one-shot horror stories set in the world of CP2077. Most of these feature original characters and plots but take their inspiration from the game world.

Fluff - The Garden - Shimmer & Shine - For something completely different.

Other Helpful Things

Cyberpunk 2077 Console/Vanilla Photomode Tutorials

Happy Hauntings, 🧡 Ghost

[shirshik72]

BiTomas week

Day 7. Onsen/Hot Springs

Author's notes: the characters' images are taken from the classic games and supplemented with my headcannons. This is completely unrelated to "Mortal Kombat 1" (2023).

Bi is acting a little uncanonical here, but that's only because he's a lovesick idiot pretending that he can do anything

The hot waters of thermal springs caress the body of a tired ninja, allowing him, at least for a while, to forget about the difficulties and vicissitudes of fate that he has to face almost every day. After a tiring workout, there is nothing better than immersing yourself in hot water and, closing your eyes, enjoying the fresh air of the mountain forests.

For the perfect picture, all that was needed was one charming man nearby. However, for some mysterious reason he refused to dive with him, and was now sunbathing under the rays of the cold sun. At 10 degrees below zero. These cryomancers are amazing people after all.

— Bi Han, — Tomas drawled melodiously, admiring his lover’s half—naked body.

— What do you want? — Sub-Zero responds, lazily opening his eyes.

— Climb in with me.

— No, you come out to me.

— I’d be glad, but I’ll freeze quickly, — Smoke says, throwing up his hands. — Come on, you better come to me. You'll warm up a little.

Bi Han tilts his head to the side and examines the water for a long time, trying to evaluate something. He looks first at Tomas, then at the water, then back at Tomas. A strange silence hung in the air, which Smoke had not yet decided to break. However, Bi Han’s slowness gave rise to vague doubts in his soul. There was something fishy here, but that's what it was... Was he really up to something?

Sub-Zero walked closer to Smoke, looking down at him.

— Are you talking about coming to you?

— Well, if you want, — the guy answered less confidently, feeling strange misgivings.

— I want to, — Bi Han nodded, looking frantically at the clouds of steam forming on the water surface.

— Then climb, — Tomas winked encouragingly.

Waking up from a long contemplation of the frosty haze, Bi Han took a couple of hesitant steps forward, slowly plunging into the mineral waters.

—Are you afraid of this water, or what? — Smoke grins mercilessly, observing his lover’s unusual indecisiveness and slowness.

— No, — he growls roughly, almost snarling. With one sharp movement, he is completely immersed in the water.

— Everything is fine?

— Yes, — Sub—Zero notes, exhaling. — Sorry for being rude... I got nervous.

—Well, okay, — Tomas grunts in response. —I hope you can relax now.

— Next to you, I certainly can, — the cryomancer whispers velvety, hugging his lover with both arms.

Smoke, flattered by the compliment, smiles carefree, feeling cold kisses melting on his hot skin. Bi Han kisses often, drawing intricate patterns on someone else's body that only he can understand. This goes by minute by minute. Slowly but surely the intensity of caresses decreases, and at a certain moment they completely disappear, leaving behind only a pleasant feeling of sensual and tender love.

Enjoying the minutes of blissful relaxation, Tomas mentally notes that Bi Han has become much hotter and, for some reason, is lying motionless. Looking at Sub—Zero's face, he noted with horror that it had become crimson red.

— Bi Han? Everything is fine?

The guy did not respond and still lay motionless on his shoulder. Then Tomas became wary, trying to push him away, but this did not help. Sub—Zero did not react in any way to external stimuli.

— Bi! Wake up! — Tomas screamed, completely confused.

Trying to pull himself together, he exhaled. Guided by intuition, Smoke emerged from the water and pulled Sub-Zero out of there. Bi Han seems to have simply overheated and lost consciousness. The guess seemed to calm Tomas, because this way he could at least guess how to proceed.

Laying him on his back on the cold ground, Smoke began to revive Sub—Zero by rubbing snow over his body. After several painfully long minutes, Bi Han finally opened his eyes, slowly coming to his senses.

— Everything is fine? — Tomas asked worriedly.

— I’m sorry,— Bi Han squeezed out, peering into his lover’s anxious face. — I shouldn’t have... I just... wanted to be closer to you, — he muttered. With every minute his babble only became more and more inarticulate.

— Silly, — Tomas said tenderly, exhaling calmly. It seems like everything worked out fine.

Postscript: I am not an English-speaking person and this is my first experience in writing a literary text in a foreign language. I apologize in advance for all my mistakes in this text and ask you to point them out in the comments or personal messages. Thanks a lot in advance to everyone!

For this wonderful week and no less wonderful BiTomas, thank @bitomas-week. It was an amazing experience that was truly very valuable to me. Many thanks to everyone who read, liked, reposted, etc. This is priceless to me.

[loudlooks]

Day 13 - Nursing a baby animal back to health

30 day challenge notes: quantity over quality, limited editing, stand-alone/unrelated stories unless specifically stated otherwise, not always tiva, chronologically randomly set in whatever pre-s11 season seems to fit

A/N: Tony's curiosity could get Abby into trouble. Big thanks to @living-in-unreality for the prompt inspiration (please don't feel obligated to read this).

Prompt: Nursing a baby animal back to health

Word count: 850

-

The lab was mostly silent, except for the usual beeping and whirring of machines he would never quite grasp—Abby’s manuals were helpful, but without McGee’s help he surely would have made something blow up. He looked at the various monitors, trying to figure out if any of them were showing something related to their current case, but quickly realized he needed about five more years in college to even come close to deciphering any of that.

Tony blew air through pursed lips and checked his watch. Abby had ordered him downstairs immediately, and now there was no sign of her, or her tell-tale music. Not that he was complaining about the latter.

He sat down on a stool, spun around five times, and stopped facing the wall with the team’s photos. There was new one of Abby and Ziva, he noticed, and got up to get a closer look. Maybe snap a shot of it for his own team album, which contained a disproportionate amount of Ziva, but that was neither here nor there, and totally coincidental, doesn’t prove anything.

A somewhat muted chirping coming from the office was all it took to distract him and investigate the new noise. It didn’t sound like anything he had heard in the lab before. In fact it sounded suspiciously like a bird. Tony grinned, assuming Abby had changed the ringtone on her phone, and had left the device unguarded in her office. What kind of a friend would he be if he didn’t make sure there wasn’t an emergency.

With a quick glance in the direction of the sliding doors, he slipped into the office, zoning in on the direction of the chirping.

“Ha!” he exclaimed, as he pulled open the top drawer with confidence.

Victory made room for confusion as he stared at the source of the chirps. He tilted his head as if that would change, or rather, explain anything, and completely missed the sound of sliding doors and heavy footsteps.

“Tony!” Abby admonished. “Stop going through my stuff.”

With raised eyebrows, Tony said, “Your stuff?”

Abby made a disgruntled sound and stepped in between him and the open drawer.

Tony looked over her shoulder, and deadpanned, “It’s high time you do some spring cleaning here, there are birds nesting in your desk.”

Abby turned around abruptly, facing him and pushing him back a few feet, while shushing him. “You’re scaring it.”

“Abby, why is there a bird in your drawer?”

“I found it this morning.” She glanced at the hungry baby bird, not quite a fledgling, but getting close. “If you tell anyone I’ll-“

“Yeah, yeah, not an atom of evidence left behind, I know.” He looked at her seriously. “You really shouldn’t keep it here, though, you know that, right? If any of the evidence gets contaminated-”

The sound of the sliding door was quickly followed by Ziva’s hurried footsteps. She rushed into the office with a triumphant look on her face, and held up a cardboard box. “Abby, I have the…” Her eyes went wide as she spotted Tony. “Crickets.”

Tony looked at her in disbelief. “You know about this?”

“It’s just a baby bird, Tony, what was she supposed to do?”

He shook his head. “You can’t have live animals in a lab full of evidence and dangerous chemicals.”

“Shush!” Abby admonished, and took the box of crickets from Ziva, and tweezers from the desk.

Ziva played with one of her earrings, and glanced at Tony. “We can keep it in your desk, then, you always brag about how good you are at attracting birds.”

He narrowed his eyes at her. “I have never referred to women as birds, and you know it.”

“Never?”

He shrugged half-heartedly. “Not since I was a teenager.”

“Fine, I’ll keep it in my desk,” Ziva said matter-of-factly, and turned her attention to the nestling being fed. “It’s so round and puffy,” she said with a bright smile.

Tony frowned, and shook his head. “That’s not going to go down well with Gibbs.”

Ziva stood up straight and crossed her arms in front of her. “I was a Mossad officer, do you really think I’m afraid of Gibbs?”

He looked her square in the eye. “Yes.”

Ziva pursed her lips.” Okay, maybe a little.” She held up a finger. “But, Abby is his favorite, so all I have to do is survive his glare long enough to explain…” Freezing for a split second, she quickly glanced over her shoulder, certain Gibbs had snuck up on them.

Tony scoffed. “A little, huh?”

“You guys, it can’t even fly yet, it can’t go anywhere near the evidence.” Abby looked at Tony expectantly and gripped his arm with both hands. “You know how careful I am with evidence, it’ll only be for today.”

Tony sighed and rolled his eyes, then looked at Ziva for backup. Ziva, who was staring at him with a puppy dog look he had never seen, nor expected from her.

His shoulders slumped, and he nodded imperceptibly. “Fine, but if Gibbs finds out, you two are on your own.”

-

Tagging (let me know if you want to be added or removed): @hopeless-nostalgiac, @mrsmungus, @indestinatus, @happygirl-0408

[presidentbungus]

Marcel has a way of getting things done, no matter what anyone else really wants to do about it. Tavish isn’t all too sure how he ended up here, one of two seated on a luxury private jet, chugging a steady stream of cocktails he’s already forgetting the prissy names of, using up vacation days he hasn’t had since the lawsuit, but every time he looks up at Marcel sitting across from him and slowly poring through a pile of travel magazines it just makes sense.

And well he knew what he was getting himself into in the first place—you can’t really trust a lad with a watch collection, who fancies sunglasses indoors as a slick and appropriate fashion choice, to not want to spring a trip to somewhere stiff and wealthy at nowhere, equator at every feasible opportunity.

What he lacks in natural cuteness the man makes up for in the strange ability to make anything and everything sound like the most important, life-changing thing you’ve ever considered doing. Not to mention all the well I’ll just go on my own, Tavish, another lonely soul adrift in the whirlpool of solitude, Tavish, and you can stay here and keep working since I know that’s more important to you than anything else, anything at all. And so, curse his natural susceptibility to guilt, Tavish found himself here about an hour later, since all his things were conveniently already arranged in a suitcase on his bed. What a surprise.

Something about dating the French. Marcel looks up at him, and slowly outstretches one expertly fitted leather glove across the aisle, sets it down on his hand, and says: "Tavish, mon beau. Look at this."

And then an awkward shuffling-around of the magazine he's holding with only one hand, until Tavish can see a limp page advertising--well, he assumes it's advertising some sort of spa getaway, using a lot of words he doesn't really recognize, and a completely unrelated picture underneath of dolphins turning in the waves. "The Pacific Pearl package," another pertinent tap at a flowery subsection, "one of the highest-reviewed couple's massage experiences on the continent."

'Highest reviewed'. Tavish knows he's talking it up but on the off-chance he's not he decides it's not worth the risk of breaking his poor wee heart. "Mmm. Wow," sucking down something green out of a cocktail glass. Tastes like watermelon. "That sounds great."

And here Marcel's eyebrows pitch just a little bit and oh, here it comes. "Of course, we would have to give up bungee-jumping if we wanted to slot this into the schedule--"

"Nope. Good try." There it is. "Bungee-jumping is non-bloody-negotiable." Tavish sets his glass down on the table so he can point accusingly, since Marcel's still rubbing treacherous circles into his other hand. "You gave me two… experiences to plan," god he hates that word, "and by god, we're stickin' by 'em. And that also goes for--"

"Scuba diving. I'm aware." Marcel wilts, just a little. "With the sharks. And the jellyfish. And the--"

"Anemone, killer minnows, flesh-eating sandskippers, vicious brain-melting amoebas, I know, Marce."

"You need to relax, mon coeur. Not… get your adrenaline pumping out in the wild. That's all I'm getting at."

Tavish sighs. "I can relax and have a little fun repeatedly jumping off cliffs, those two things aren't mutually bloody exclusive. And you," he says, triumphantly, "you gotta live a little. I can't be the only fun one in this relationship. It's stiflin' me growth as a person."

"I'm fun." Marcel rears back, maybe genuinely offended, though of course you can never tell with him. "I'm very fun."

"Well let's prove it, then."

Marcel opens his mouth, and then it flops shut and he leans back against the seat, pulling his hand back and crossing his arms.

It might be a bad time, but Tavish quietly adds: "Thoughts on parasailing?"

"You're on thin ice."

"Understood."